


Red Dress (How To Kill A Killer)

by Sunshine_The_Introvert_99



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Betrayal, Character Death, Corruption, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fanfiction, Italian Mafia, Modern Assassins, Murder, Murder Mystery, Police, Prompt Fic, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine_The_Introvert_99/pseuds/Sunshine_The_Introvert_99
Summary: My name is Adrianna Nancy Drew and this is the story of how I solved my boyfriend Christopher Holmes' murder and survived to tell a tale the police would rather keep hidden. This isn't your grandmother's fairy-tale. This is real life. Cold, sad, angry, ugly, dangerous, guilty, life. This is a story of how the prey becomes the hunter. This is how to kill a killer.





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue:

They told me it was an accident. They said it was a drunk driver. They told me it was a tragedy. They kept saying, "I'm sorry for your loss." Like it would bring my boyfriend of five years back from the dead. His dad told me he was going to propose to me that night. It had been an unusually cold night for Daytona Beach, Florida on December 3rd. Christopher was supposed to pick me up and drive me to my "surprise" 25th birthday party. I was wearing a blood-red sweater dress, kind of fitting looking back on it now. I remember being so excited; I was always excited to see Christopher. He was the only man I'd ever loved after all. I remember wearing his favorite black dress to the funeral, he'd have said something inappropriate to make me smile if it hadn't been his funeral. I don't remember what the preacher said on that cold and rainy December afternoon. It was as if God himself was mourning his loss with me. I remember that phone call I had gotten hours after I assumed I had been stood up on my birthday. I had angrily thrown on a faded pink tank top and grey baggy sweatpants when I got the call that changed my life forever. The voice on the phone was a young officer telling me he found Christopher's body behind the wheel of his mutilated black Ford truck. I remember hearing a panicked voice say "no" over and over like a scratched CD, just repeating the same part on replay, then I realized with startling clarity the voice of the distraught woman was mine. Even knowing he was gone, even after identifying him something felt wrong, off. It was too perfect, too easy, too clean. It never added up. They said it was just the grief. They said I was desperate and they were right. I am desperate, desperate for the truth. And this is how I, Adrianna Nancy Drew solved her boyfriend's murder and the conspiracy the police tried to hide. My great grandmother, Nancy Drew the first, trusted the police. I don't. I'll prove I'm not crazy. Christopher Holmes was murdered and the police covered it up. I'm going to figure out who did it and why. Then I'm going to kill the killer.


	2. The Funeral

She walks down the aisle in his favorite black dress. Her delicate black veil frames her face, a mockery of the wedding veil she never got to wear. Adrianna makes her way to her mother, sitting in the hard pew seats mechanically. Her mom, never one to give false comfort, doesn't say a word she simply extends her hand for her only daughter to grasp. After everyone is seated the pastor, a friend of the family, starts speaking, but Adrianna isn't listening. She stares with tears gathering in her eyes, ignoring the everyone's stares as she thinks of all the things they will never have. Time seems to fly away and simultaneously crawl inch by inch for the grieving young woman. The encouragement, the prayers, the I'm sorry's, all pass in a blur. Somehow she finds herself underneath younger brother's umbrella when she realizes it's her turn to lay the bouquet of roses on Christopher's shiny, black casket. Numbly she steps out in the pouring rain, dropping to the wet, muddy ground she lays the flowers down on top of his death box as he used to call them. Adrianna stays on her knees until the casket is carefully lowered in the deep rectangular shaped hole in the ground. A sense of finality hangs over the living gathered in a circle around the grave. Yet, despite it all she can't shake the feeling that this is not the end, something is wrong, unfinished.


	3. Bitter Coffee and Suspicion

••• Three Years Later •••

At 28 years old, I thought I'd be married with a couple kids by now, but life rarely ever sticks to the plan. At 28 years old, I'm the best investigative reporter in Los Angeles, California. With one dead boyfriend, one miscarriage and one abusive ex, I'm as bitter as the coffee I drink. They say tragedy, loss, abuse, changes you. It does, I'm a testament to that statement. I used to be happy. An optimistic, fun, kind ray of sunshine. Now I'm just fucking bitter. Bitter and angry. They call me the ice queen; cold, cruel and calculated. And they're half right, I am all of those things, but it's not because I don't feel or because I hate people. No. It'd be so easy if it were that simple. The problem, my problem, is that I feel too much. I never stopped, but I learned that if people knew I was still emotionally available, they could destroy me. And I can't have that. I don't want to die or break before I find the son of a bitch that murdered the love of my life. I used to be a therapist, now I'm an investigative journalist that finds criminals and unearths corruption for a living. I've been preparing myself for years to look in the eyes of Christopher's murderer. Why can't I go to the cops you might ask, well, he is one. Since I don't know which one and who would try to protect him, I can't trust any of them. A harsh knock rouses me from my morbid day dreams as our receptionist, Lucy Hale, a busty, blonde golddigger marches in my office. "Hey girl! Detective Chase Rider is here to see you about a case. How exciting!" I simply raise an eyebrow at the annoying blonde. I open my mouth to respond when a giant of a man walks in my door; shaggy ebony hair, bulging muscles and a towering height of 6'3. He looks like a distraction, a tall, gorgeous distraction that I have no room in life for. He reaches his large hand towards mine for a professional handshake, numbly I let him clasp our hands together for a moment, our eyes locked. "Nice to meet you Miss Drew. You can call me Chase since we're going to be working together for this next piece." His deep velvety voice washes over me and it's all I can do not to moan. As pathetic as that sounds, this man is my every fantasy come to life... Wait, did he just say we're going to be working together? "I'm sorry what? Did you just say we're going to be working together?" He cocks his head to the side slightly in confusion. "Did your boss not tell you? You're going to be working alongside me, covering the serial killer known as Hades." The apparent fury on my face answers him for me. He scratches his neck awkwardly, looking decidedly uncomfortable at being the bearer of bad news. I jump up from my desk, my heels clicking as I march towards the door furiously to confront my boss. I never cover serial killers. He knows that. The narcissistic asshole! Not after my parents were murdered by a serial killer last fucking year! I may not be the most emotionally available (out of choice), but I still have nightmares every night about it! I was the one who found them and-and now he wants me to do this shit! I don't realize I'm shaking until my legs almost give out from beneath me as I stand outside his office. I take a few calming breaths before burst into his office unannounced.


	4. Hell Hath No Fury

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" I yell at my boss as I barge into his pretentious modern office. My boss, who just so happens to be my abusive ex-boyfriend, smirks at me like the cat that caught the canary. "Why would you put me on a case with a fucking detective to investigate a fucking serial killer?! You know how I feel about them." My boss, Adam Chandler, regards me with casual amusement. "Adrianna, I can't afford to show favoritism simply because we used to date. That wouldn't be very professional of me now would it darling?" Adam responded condescendingly, using that stupidly posh French accent of his. I glare menacingly down at him while he picks up his phone to rattle off directions to his PA, not so subtly dismissing me. I let out a frustrated sound before spinning on my heels and speed walking out of his hideous office, slamming his door for good measure. I grumble to myself venomously. "Should've pressed charges... Fucking asshole..." I walk back to my office where the handsome detective is waiting. "Well Detective, it looks like we'll be working together. Come back 3:00PM so we can go over expectations and ground rules." Detective Chase Rider nods in agreement before shaking my hand again and heading for the door. "Chase?" I call out as he reaches the door. He turns slightly in acknowledgement. "Don't be late." The detective shoots me an impish grin as our eyes lock. "Not to worry ma'am. I'm never late." I snort at the arrogant remark and seconds later I'm alone again. Checking the time on the flat gold watch my mother gave me, I get back to work. I'm so engrossed in my work; scheduling meetings, editing books and fighting with stingy publishers, that I don't notice Chase at first. He silently leans against the wall near the door, giving me semblance of privacy to finish up my work and notice him. After I end the call with an up and coming historical romance author, I acknowledge the detective. "Chase, please have a seat. I apologize for the wait." After my guest makes himself comfortable and I open up a new notebook for this case, we go over the ground rules and details of what he and his department expect of me. I'm going to be writing about the investigation start to finish and after they catch the serial killer known as Hades I will be preforming a comprehensive interview in the prison. Our meeting a few minutes before I have to leave. Chase walks me to my car in comfortable silence after I lock up my office and finish a few last minute tasks. He makes sure I'm safely in my car before walking to his own car. I drive for about fifteen minutes before I pull into the driveway of little apartment on the south side of town. I climb two flights of stairs to my apartment before I can get inside and change into my favorite pair of sweatpants. I call my little brother like I do everyday. We've always been close, but when our parents were murdered we became best friends. I've always had a really hard time opening up to people and my little brother probably knows me better than anyone at this point. My brother Fenris is brilliant, as the owner of his own gaming business at the tender age of 22 while going to college for a degree in computer programming and business. He doesn't say a whole lot and he's got a lifetime supply of sarcasm, but I can't imagine this life without him. I'm so incredibly proud of him and everything he's accomplished. After about an hour of conversation he ends the call, promising to come over for movie night next weekend if he's not too busy. I spend the rest of the night cleaning my apartment and cooking pasta for me and my broody roommate, Rolf Vega. I fall asleep to dreams of dark eyes, bloody hands and bruises long since healed. Apparently, being stressed out, traumatized and working closely under a man that used to beat the shit out of me every night doesn't make for a good night's sleep.


End file.
